When I place my hand on the stone, a radiant light surrounds me. This is how the beast transformation manifests.
A beast-man can take only two forms: the half-human one, with tail, ears, and claws, and the full form, when he becomes entirely beast.
Each one's talent is measured by evolutionary capacity. The tattoo that appears on the body indicates the level of evolution, and that's what defines social status. The most important thing, however, is the calling, the ritual where the beast-man meets his animal partner, his bride for life.
During the calling, he must dance and let out a specific cry. If his partner is present, she will be drawn to him, even against her will, a kind of natural hypnosis. Only men can perform it.
"The next one! Beast-man of the eagle type, normal talent. Make the calling for your bride!" announces the director.
The boy, newly awakened, smiles, excited. He dances, then lets out a cry so sharp it almost pierces my ears.
Still, everyone looks at him as if it were something beautiful and thrilling.
Soon, a girl begins to walk toward him, drawn by the power of the cry. She's a fox-woman with low talent, but her face is beautiful: those of the fox lineage usually are. Here, beauty seems to be the rule.
"From now on, you two are engaged. When she goes into heat, in six years, you may marry and become partners for life. Now, meet your families."
The couple walks off happy, but I notice his gaze change. His bride has low talent, and that can be a problem. In this world, talent defines everything: low, medium, high, and royal.
The man's level determines the couple's status. The woman's defines evolutionary power. A woman too talented can surpass her partner, and that's why men in that position become targets of mockery.
Other boys step up and awaken their animal forms. With each burst of light, my heart races.
Penelope, of course, doesn't miss the chance.
"What's that face, Elira? Don't be so anxious. You'll be the only one to turn into a fly, lol!"
Laughter echoes. I ignore it.
Then I hear the director call Penelope's name.
Penelope steps onto the stage with her chin raised, confident. She places her hand on the stone. The light envelops her, intense, and seconds later the glow fades, revealing scales. A colossal snake appears: white, pure as snow.
But what really shocks everyone is the tattoo shining on her body: high talent, level of a marquis's or even a duke's daughter.
"At last, an interesting girl." The director smiles in satisfaction.
The audience bursts into applause. Such talent is pure power, a force the kingdom would never let slip away.
I stand still, watching.
I admit it: jealousy consumes me. I can't have low talent. I can't be a reason for laughter.
In the stands, the dukes and marquises of the serpent lineage rise, proud of the new prodigy.
Penelope steps down from the stage, triumphant, and joins the already awakened girls waiting for their pairs. But the boys draw back.
No one wants the bad luck of attracting such a superior partner. Having a more powerful bride is the same as being the eternal joke.
Penelope looks at me and smiles with that victorious air.
I take a deep breath.
I can't stay behind her.
They call my name.
I climb the steps, heart pounding.
The director notices my nervousness.
"Calm down, girl. Everything will be fine."
I touch the stone. Light explodes around me. Everyone leans forward, trying to see. When the glow fades, silence cuts through the air.
"What is that?"
"She didn't transform!"
"I've never seen anything like this!"
My body is intact. No animal form. Only a tattoo appears on my neck: mysterious, impossible to decipher.
"This has never happened," murmurs the director. "She remains the same. Only the tattoo appeared."
The crowd bursts into laughter. Penelope laughs loudly, pleased with my shame.
My throat tightens. My chest aches.
Could this have something to do with my transmigration?
The looks around me are filled with disgust and contempt. Here, being different means being a failure.
I almost cry.
"Wait," says the director. "I'll call a more experienced alchemist."
He raises his head and lets out a deep roar: the sound of a bear mixed with thunder.
From the stands, a man appears, flying with imposing wings.
Old, sharp eyes, a gaze that has seen too much.
An eagle-type beast-man.
The director greets him with respect.
"Elder Frederick."
The elder studies me. His gaze pierces through me, as if he could see my soul.
"This phenomenon…" he murmurs. "Rare. Or nonexistent. In fifty years, I've never seen anything like it."
Here, fifty years equals a century: creatures grow fast.
He examines the tattoo. His expression turns to shock.
"I can't even discern the symbol."
He turns to the director.
"Set her aside for now. If she can't assume an animal form, we'll need alchemists from the capital to study her. Until then, she'll be assigned to a low-class family."
Those words hit me like a punch.
The ground seems to disappear.
I stand still, isolated, while laughter and whispers cut through me.
I don't look at Penelope.
I can't.
I'm far below what anyone expected.
They call Lucas's name.
My heart tightens. He steps up calmly, no emotion on his face.
Not even a glance at me.
I finally understand that maybe I never meant anything to him.
No pity, no tenderness. Nothing.
Maybe I never even existed in his thoughts.
The girls around sigh. Half are in love, the other half envious.
Penelope watches him from the corner of her eye, assessing him with the look of someone measuring worth and lineage, as if already calculating whether he'd sire children strong enough for her.
Lucas touches the stone.
The light explodes.
It's not like the others: it's intense, violent, pushing the air and forcing everyone to cover their eyes.
When the brightness fades, silence reigns.
In the boy's place stands a dragon.
Scales red as embers, powerful horns, folded wings, hot breath.
Even though it's only the awakening, the power is suffocating.
The director stares at his tattoo and stammers, voiceless.
"R– royal talent!"
The shout echoes through the hall. "He's the newest member of the royal family!"
Chaos erupts.
Everyone screams, cries, rejoices. To witness a royal talent is to see a living legend.
Lucas returns to his human form.
Red hair, skin marked by gleaming scales, long tail, perfect horns.
It's impossible to look away.
His presence dominates the air.
The director, overtaken by euphoria, greets him with reverence.
"Your Highness, honor us with the calling."
Lucas takes a deep breath and begins to dance.
His steps are slow, precise, full of power. Each movement seems to make the ground pulse.
And then comes the cry.
A dragon's roar, so strong and pure it rings like a bell in everyone's ears.
Across the entire kingdom, beasts feel the call.
***
In the capital, the king himself smiles as he hears the resonance in the air.
A new heir of royal blood has awakened.
***
But the impossible happens.
When the echo of the roar fades, the entire field turns toward one point.
Me.
My body moves on its own.
The sound still vibrates inside my chest.
I don't think, I don't resist. I walk in a trance toward him, as if the whole world had vanished, as if my heart were being pulled by an invisible thread.
Lucas stares at me, surprised.
The crowd falls silent.
Then the murmurs begin.
"The imperfect human beast...?"
"That's impossible!"
"The royal talent called someone without a form?"
I stand before him, hypnotized, my gaze lo
cked on the eyes that once ignored me.
I don't know if this is destiny, a mistake... or the beginning of my ruin.